


sunshine yellow

by feychella



Category: Not Another D&D Podcast (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hell, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25957834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feychella/pseuds/feychella
Summary: The sky starts fading, and Moonshine does, too.Or, Moonshine takes the Hellfire Crown and learns to live with herself.
Relationships: Jaina Bronzebeard/Moonshine Cybin, Moonshine Cybin & Hardwon Surefoot & Beverly Toegold V
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	sunshine yellow

**Author's Note:**

> moonshine! she's my girl!
> 
> your comments are appreciated. <3

The first weeks are the worst. 

The pain starts slowly, behind her eyes, pulsing in her head every so often. Just enough to make her think she has a migraine, a headache, something that could be fixed. Pendaghast had told her that it would be like this. Moonshine hadn’t believed him, then.

She twists the silver ring around her finger and thinks about her wedding day. The weeks afterwards, Jaina had begged her to stay. _Let Pendaghast keep the crown._ She packs her bags, little by little, and plans to sneak out in the middle of the night. Moonshine could not forgive herself for abandoning him down here for eternity. Not when she made a promise _._

The warmth of their bed tries to pull her back in. She tears herself away, padding across the cold hardwood. Crouching down to Jaina, brushing her hair off of her forehead, kissing her cheek gently. The actions flow together and she grabs her little satchel, leaving their little stump almost robotically. The last thing she sees of the living world is her wife, sleeping peacefully under the light of the moon.

She sits back, crown heavy on her head. _If I could just take it off…_ It was selfish of her to want to take it off. It was her burden to bear, after all, she knew it would come down to this in the end. Moonshine straightens her back against the black throne, surveying the throne room. _Her_ throne room. The floor is made of a swirling black marble, gold flecks shifting in it every so often, columns lining the walls in the same scheme. The ceiling is vaulted, glittering high above her. It reminded her of the stars, from the Crick. The lanterns over Galaderon. She could change it all if she wanted to. Her fingers lift in the air for a moment, spell already sparking at the edge of her nails. The throne room flashes into a dull gray. She sets her hand down on her throne again, drained. Moonshine conjures up some light, because Hell is dark, and god, how she missed the Sun. She sits in the warm glow for a moment before it flickers out and she returns to her waking nightmare.

**\-------**

A satchel skitters across the marble floor. It’s her old bag, burlap, from home. She gets up off the throne, wobbling towards it; her legs betray her and she collapses on the floor. Moonshine gathers the bag in her arms and hugs it close to her chest. It smells like sticky buns, grass, the woods, _home._

Her fingers fumble with the bag and the contents spill out. A paint palette with _E.S.//H.S._ crudely written on the back panel. A bundle of lavender. Moonshine presses the flowers to her face and inhales their subtle scent. Tears come to her eyes. She sets it delicately on the floor and rummages through the rest of the satchel. A bright quilt, with the name _Beverly Toegold V_ embroidered on the edge. They hadn’t forgotten about her. The pain in her head recedes as she looks at her gifts. An apple falls out of the bag and she stares at it in shock. Something so fresh and pretty didn’t look right here, in the grays and blacks of her throne room. She sets it on the floor before her throne. 

Teardrops stain the floor of the room as she walks unsteadily back to the throne, gifts in arms. Light envelopes her and she feels warm for a moment. She drapes the quilt around her shoulders. It had been a long time since she’d seen colors this vivid. The paint palette sits on the armrest of her chair and she promises herself that she’ll see them again. One day. Once her work was done. _My name is Moonshine Cybin. My best friends are Bev and Hardwon. My parents are Lucanus and Jolene, but I call them Mee-Maw and Pee-Paw. My wife is Jaina Bronzebeard. I am Moonshine Cybin._ The words comfort her and she clings to them like a lifeline as she slips into an unsteady sleep.

**\-------**

No one comes to visit her.

The throne room is big. It’s meant to entertain hundreds, even thousands of guests. But this was Hell. There were no guests. There was no one coming for her. She thinks about Paw Paw. He must be old, now. She hopes that Mee-Maw is taking good care of him. Her heart sinks and she knows that she’ll never see him again. The pain is familiar but it slams dully against her chest. 

Every so often, she thinks about her friends. _What were their names again?_ Moonshine frantically checks the back of the quilt. _Beverly Toegold V_. She picks up the paint palette and dabs her fingers in it, painting his name in sunshine yellow on her left armrest. She stares at the back of the paint palette. _E.S.//H.S._ Who was that? Did she know anyone with the initials _H.S._? Moonshine wracks her brain. It’s on the tip of her tongue and she can’t-

What was she trying to remember, again?

She puts the paint palette down. The crown weighs uncomfortably on her head. Moonshine braids her hair idly, thinking about each motion. It’s nice to have something that she can do to pass the time. The apple, rotten in front of her, flashes out of existence as she waves her hand. Sighing to herself, she rakes her fingers through her hair.

The lavender, her final gift from Jaina, dry and falling apart. It sits on the armrest over Bev’s name. _Bev._ That was what they called him. A smile curves her lips for a fleeting moment. Her fingers brush through it and the leaves disperse, fluttering to the floor like ashes. _Ashes._ This was no place for a druid. Her fingers are stained purple but she doesn’t rub the color off - instead, she streaks the remains of the flowers down her face. Moonshine catches a glimpse of her lavender-stained cheeks and tries to memorize what she looks like, now. She conjures up some light and stares at herself in the marble pillars.

She remembers her mother’s hands in her hair, early mornings in the Crick, the day before she left on her grand adventure. Her parents, standing proud above her. Moonshine’s memories flash before her eyes and she tries to savor them before they rush away and she’s alone again. Darkness settles over her. It was always dark in Hell. If she closes her eyes, she can see the Crick, outlined in her shaky memory. Tree stumps, honey bees, Jaina. _Jaina,_ with her sandalwood and baskets of fresh fruit. Late-night baking with her friends - when they all couldn’t sleep because of shared nightmares - and getting covered in flour and sugar. The memories leave her cold.

The throne room is black; she blinks her eyes - once, twice - before giving up and hugging her knees to her chest. The crown glows with a faint light. Her voice cracks across the room - she pretends to tell her friends what she’s been doing, how she misses them, even though she knows they can’t hear her. Did they miss her? Were they still proud? If she squeezes her eyes shut, she can see Bev's bright smile, how he looked when...when...

Shivering, she reaches for Beverly’s quilt. The threads start to unravel and she sobs, pulling it closer around her. Her eyes start to close and she fights to stay awake. _My name is Moonshine Cybin. My best friends are..._ She checks the armrest. _Beverly Toegold V and...I miss Mee-Maw and Pee-Paw_ _Luke._ _My wife is Jaina Bronzebeard. I am Moonshine Cybin._ She repeats the words over and over, trying to fill in the blanks, mind failing. And then she sleeps.

\-------

_Hardwon Surefoot._

The name is whispered to her in a dream. She’s standing on a beach, watching a boat on fire float out to sea. Soft cries come from behind her and she whirls around. Two halflings cling to each other. A dwarf with long auburn hair braided down her back, expression hard, stands with her battleaxe at her side. Tears shine in their eyes. She reaches towards them without thinking. _Jaina._ Jaina turns to her and Moonshine’s breath catches in her throat. _Can she see me?_ Her wife walks through her - Moonshine turns with tears in her eyes - and disintegrates. The tide washes her away and she collapses in the sand, hands grabbling for any remaining dust.

Moonshine’s screams echo around the throne room. The crown is red-hot on her head. _Hardwon Surefoot._ She clutches at her head, wailing in a broken voice. _H.S._ Her weak fingers outline his name on her right armrest before she forgets it again. Leaning up, she reads the shaky letters. _That looks right._ Moonshine’s chest contorts and she dissolves into tears, collapsing at the foot of her own throne. When Moonshine closes her eyes, she sees Jaina disintegrate in front of her again.

 _My name is Moonshine Cybin._ Tears pour down her face and her internal timer starts. She wasn't supposed to be this emotional for this long. My _best friends are Beverly Toegold V and Hardwon Surefoot. I miss my parents. My wife is...was Jaina Bronzebeard._ Moonshine gasps for air. _Was?_ She didn't know if Jaina was dead or alive. _I am Moonshine Cybin._ She pulls herself together, throat raw from crying.

The quilt lies abandoned on the floor. It didn’t feel cold down here, anymore. Maybe it was warming up, maybe that was her imagination. Her fingers tap against the names on her throne and she tries to remember the sound of their laughs. Moonshine sees her mother’s face, remembers her father’s hand in her own. She closes her eyes, trying to remember her home, the people in it. Moonshine can see the warm orchards, the bubbling swamp, nannerflies buzzing around her head. What did they call it?

She can’t remember.

**\-------**

Her dreams become confusing. Sometimes she stands on the beach. Sometimes she runs into the water after the burning ship. Sometimes she’ll see a dwarf with long red hair burst into dust and wake up crying without knowing why. The ring on her finger tarnishes and she throws it across the room. It clatters into the depths of the blackness and she tries to remember who that dwarf could be, who she meant to a different Moonshine. Her mind doesn’t obey her and she sits back, exhausted. _My name is Moonshine Cybin._ She tries to conjure up some light so she can see something, in this godforsaken darkness, but her magic does not obey her. Melora has abandoned her, and Moonshine decides she doesn't care.

She spends her waking hours painting. It keeps her calm. She used to be able to levitate herself and now she stares at the stars dotting the ceiling above her. They glow in precious white and yellow above her and she smiles, tired, as she looks at them. They reminded her of a home, far away, somewhere she didn’t remember well enough. _I will miss the sky,_ someone had said to once, on one of her grand adventures. She paints it in the center of her room. Maybe one day she'd remember who had said it to her.

Every inch of the throne room is covered in memories. Here, a tall Crick elf, dressed in dark clothing, surrounded by mushrooms in red and purple. Tree stumps, as best as she could remember. A giant airship with _Stormborn_ painted on the side in careful letters. Little houses under hills, green and sunshine yellow. They reminded her of her friends. She didn’t remember what most of the images meant, but they comforted her anyway. A shiver runs up her spine and she stares over at the quilt still lying over a patch of floor. Picking it up, she drapes it over her shoulders, desperate for something warm. _Beverly Toegold V._ The name shimmers before her eyes - she doesn't remember who it belongs to - but in her broken voice, it sounds familiar. _My best friends are..._ She skips that line in her prayer.

Faded versions of her mother and father, standing beside each other, are under her feet. Moonshine paints what she remembers, leaving their faces blank. A dab of eye color here, strands of hair there. One day she would remember their faces all the way. She tries to reconstruct them from her memory. Paw Paw scrambles around their feet and she smiles, looking down at her old friend. He was surely dead, running around somewhere better. Somewhere better than here, she hopes. _I love my parents._

Moonshine settles on her chair, quilt still around her shoulders, obsessively tracing the dull yellow letters on her armrests. _Beverly Toegold V._ There was that name again. _Hardwon Surefoot._ Tears rush to her eyes. They were important to her, she could feel it. Her fingers, sticky with paint, tap against their faded names. Her mind is crowded with questions - her strength leaves her - and she slumps against her obsidian throne.

Moonshine’s eyes focus on the night sky above her and she hugs her knees to her chest. _I will miss the stars._ She thinks about the red-headed dwarf, her parents, the little possum around their feet. The emptiness settles behind her lungs and she takes a deep breath. _My..._ She wracks her brain. What comes next? Moonshine closes her eyes and leans back against her chair. _I am Moonshine Cybin._

**\-------**

The sky starts fading, and Moonshine does, too.

She ties her once-bright auburn hair back and takes a walk around her throne room. The paint is scratching off and she steps carefully around the ruins of the _Stormborn,_ through the little houses under hills, from tree stump to tree stump. Moonshine couldn’t remember what home was supposed to feel like. Her feet carry her over to an image of a tall high elf and a Crick elf. A colorful quilt lies over their lower halves and she tilts her head at them. Moonshine wracks her brain before dissolving into tears. She drags herself back to her throne and sits down hard.

She tries to breathe normally, lungs struggling for air. Her eyes close, and she knows, with a solemn heart, that this will be the last time. _I did all I could._ Maybe she would meet whoever those names on her armrest belonged to. The paint flakes off the chair and their names disappear. She sobs, staring at her hands, useless in her lap. Sniffling, she blinks the tears away. Moonshine takes one last look at her throne room, awash in muted colors. _I will miss the sky,_ she thinks to herself, whispering goodbye under her breath. _My name is Moonshine..._ There was more, once, but she was just so _tired.._. She puts her hands to her heads, cursing herself for not remembering, willing herself to stop crying. _This is no place for a druid._ Moonshine hears the crown clatter to the floor of the throne room.

And then her vision goes dark.


End file.
